


gonna make you a star (in the backseat of my car)

by thunderylee



Category: Kanjani8 (Band), Pop Music RPF
Genre: Canon Universe, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-12
Updated: 2009-04-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 20:39:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12712542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Britney gets lost in Osaka and finds herself in Ohkura’s pants.





	gonna make you a star (in the backseat of my car)

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

It’s not a big deal that Ohkura drinks alone; given his occupation, it’s only natural that there are some times he wants to have some peace.

In his line of work, ‘peace’ is just a hand sign.

There’s a bar he frequents, right around the corner from his parents’ house, where the bartender is a senpai from school and entertains Ohkura with stores of his sad life that make him feel better about himself.

Tonight he’s uncharacteristically quiet – Nishikawa-san, not Ohkura – and Ohkura’s a little concerned. Not that he needed any more assurance that his life is awesome, but he hasn’t seen the older man so frazzled since they were teenagers.

“Is something…” Ohkura starts, trailing off because he’s not good at this comfort thing.

Nishikawa-san bites his lips a few times, an old nervous habit, as he darts his eyes very obviously over Ohkura’s shoulder. “Don’t look,” he hisses quickly. “I mean, look, but don’t look.”

Hiding a sigh, Ohkura pretends to flip his hair and almost falls out of his chair at the figure hunched over in the corner behind the unused pool table. Not only is it rare to see a white girl in this bar, Ohkura’s pretty sure that he recognizes her as a famous American celebrity. Just _really_ shit-faced.

“You’re staring,” Nishikawa points out.

“I don’t think she can see this far,” Ohkura speculates, his theory proven correct when the girl entertains herself by blowing her bangs out of her face, oblivious to the two others’ eyes on her. “Do you think she needs help?”

Nishikawa laughs. “Only you would ask if Britney Spears needs help instead of taking advantage of her.”

Ohkura makes a face. “Pass, I’ve already seen that on the Internet. Give me some water, will you?”

Wordlessly, Nishikawa sprays some water in a glass and slides it right into the open hand of Ohkura, who nods to himself and strides across the empty bar towards the very drunk pop singer.

“Um,” he says slowly, clearing his throat.

She looks up, tilts her head to peer at him, and smiles. Her makeup is only smudged a little and her lip gloss is still shining; she’s in better condition than most of the girls Ohkura have found alone in bars over the years.

“I don’t know _any_ Japanese,” she says clearly, a strong Southern accent mixed in with the slur.

Ohkura nods and hands her the water. “Drink please.”

She eyes the glass for a second before squinting up at him as she shakily reaches for it. He ends up continuing to hold onto it as she brings it to her mouth and drains a good portion of it.

“Thank you, Bri-san,” Ohkura says without thinking, then feels his face get hot as he realizes what he just said. “I mean, Miss Spears.”

“You called me ‘Bri-san’,” she replies with a laugh, her smile making her look much younger. “That’s cute.”

Ohkura’s cheeks get even warmer as he swallows hard and stares at the floor. “Do you know…” he starts, trying to concentrate on the grammar in his head. “… where your home is?”

“My home?” she repeats, her head falling back to stare at the ceiling. “Far, far away.”

“You have hotel?” he tries again.

Another laugh, and Britney’s expression would be a knowing one if it wasn’t for her very squinted eyes. “Why, you want to come back with me?”

Ohkura sputters a little, not exactly sure what she’s asking but recognizing the tone. “I want to help,” he enunciates clearly.

“Aren’t you just the sweetest thing,” she practically sings, reaching for his hand and grasping it loosely. “Of course you can help. Do you have a car?”

“I have a car,” Ohkura says gently, letting her lean on him as she stands up. She’s not too wobbly on her feet but he holds her up anyway, unconsciously breathing in the scent of her hair as her head rests on his shoulder.

“I think I owe him money,” Britney whispers as she points at Nishikawa, like it’s a secret. “I drank a lot.”

Ohkura doesn’t feel the need to point out the obvious and maneuvers them to the bar, where Nishikawa rattles off a pretty impressive tab for one person and Britney reaches for her purse that’s squished between herself and Ohkura.

It’s just a little awkward as she digs around in it, and Ohkura glares at Nishikawa when he realizes that his old senpai is biting back a laugh.

He stares pointedly at the bartender as Britney unknowingly pokes his belly through her purse, hoping that he’s enjoying his amusement at Ohkura’s expense. Then she pokes _lower_ and Ohkura jumps, but it’s the same time that Britney triumphantly holds up her gold card and thrusts it in Nishikawa’s face, oblivious to Ohkura’s discomfort.

“You two have fun,” Nishikawa says in English, winking very obviously at Ohkura who’s trying to lift Britney’s purse a little higher.

“Thanks, Bartender-san!” Britney squeals, grinning as she pretty much lays on Ohkura and lets him walk them out of the bar.

The night air is a crisp reminder of where he is, who he’s with, and what he’s doing. Ohkura is a strong man but this is _Britney Spears_ , the same Britney Spears whose naked pictures he jerked off to as a teenager when Ryo would bring over his laptop and Uchi somehow knew where to find all of the celebrity porn for free.

His deep breath is more to gather himself than adjusting to the weather, but Britney doesn’t make any indication that she notices. She’s shivering actually, her skimpy top and short skirt completely unreasonable for the temperature.

He wants to ask why she doesn’t have a coat, but he doesn’t know how to say it and just settles for shrugging off his and putting it around her. Now he’s cold, but he also has on a long-sleeved shirt and doesn’t feel drunk at all, his buzz disappearing when he made the decision to take responsibility for someone else.

Someone whose arm is wrapped lazily around his waist, her fingers holding onto his belt loop as they walk, her palm bumping against his ass with each step.

Ohkura looks to the sky and doesn’t know whether to pity his life or thank the stars above. It takes about ten times longer to get to his SUV that’s parked _at the curb_ , mostly since Britney keeps losing her balance and sending them backwards.

“Nice ride,” she says right into his neck, making him choke on his breath when she laughs and presses her lips to the sensitive skin.

“Bri-san,” he gasps, trying to push her away but she’s like a leech. Not to mention that he isn’t really trying either, just tightening his hands on her arms, which might just be defeating the purpose as she burrows closer to him.

Now her hands are definitely on his ass, firmly grabbing the flesh as she seems to have enough coherence to press flush against him and not fall over. He sucks in his air again, like he won’t get aroused if he’s not breathing, and even he thinks that’s a stupid idea as his body becomes more than approving at the way she’s tugging on his belt loops and rolling her hips towards him.

She ends up with her back to the door, and while Ohkura’s not sure whether it’s from his doing or hers, he’s certainly doing well to hold her there as his head automatically dips to kiss her. She tastes sweet and sour at the same time, tongues sliding together as his conscience is overruled by the lust that’s growing between his legs.

One hand tangles in her hair, the other dropping to her thigh and teasing the hem of her skirt as her leg lifts to accommodate. Ohkura tries to push away the fanboy flailing that surfaces in his mind, but it just serves to make him want it more, to fuck Britney Spears right here against his SUV in downtown Osaka at three in the morning.

He hears something to the side, then a frustrated groan from Britney when she can’t get the back door open at that angle. Ohkura beeps off the locks and lifts the handle himself, guiding her up into the backseat until he can close the door behind them.

There’s only a second for Ohkura’s morality to resurface as he looks down at her, light hair splayed all over the dark upholstery with equally as dark eyes meeting his. His fingers move of their own volition until he’s met with her warmth, wet and accepting of him as her thighs spread invitingly.

She lets out a moan and he’s back in her mouth, kissing her fiercely while one hand pushes up her shirt and the other opens her up for him. Her body is incredibly responsive for being so drunk, a content noise slipping from her lips as he drops his mouth to her breasts.

“Hey,” she says softly, her voice laced with sex. “What do I call you? I don’t think I could pronounce your name even if you told me.”

“Um,” Ohkura thinks out loud, breathing heavily as he struggles to concentrate. “My name is Tadayoshi.”

“Tadayoshi,” she emphasizes slowly, then frowns. “That’s too long. Give me something shorter.”

“Tacchon,” he gasps, groaning as he inadvertently rubs himself against the seat. “Call me Tacchon.”

“Tacchon,” she repeats, smiling. “Now fuck me, Tacchon.”

She doesn’t have to tell him twice. He’s already reaching for his pocket and rolling on a condom, not even fighting her when she goes to pull his shirt over his head because he’s sweating from holding back. He jerks when her hands graze his belly before sliding back over his hips, squeezing both cheeks and making the last of his self-consciousness leave him as she pushes him inside her.

He groans again as he’s surrounded by her, muscles working him as he pushes in and out. Gradually he establishes a rhythm, rocking his hips as she meets him from below and moans his name as she tightens around him over and over. Her nails rake through his hair and he lifts his head, covering her mouth with his and drinking up her gasps and moans, feeling like the world’s best lover for making her cry out like that.

It’s even better when she comes, tugging on his hair as she arches her back and pulls him deeper inside her. Ohkura tears his mouth away and presses his face in her neck, panting against her skin as he struggles to fuck her through it. His thrusts become sharp and sporadic, making the shocks bounce as his rhythm falters in favor of his balls tightening and threatening to let go.

Then a scream rips through her and she comes again, this time taking him with her. He bites back the “Bri-san” on his tongue, but it slips out anyway as his whole body tenses and releases inside her, reality slowly coming back to him with each rise of her chest underneath him.

“Mmm,” Britney says sleepily. “That was good.”

“Thank you,” Ohkura replies politely, feeling like the world’s biggest nerd for actually having this conversation.

She smiles and stretches as she fixes her clothes, looking like she’d have no problem just laying here in the backseat of Ohkura’s SUV with him on top of her until the sun rises.

“I take you home now,” he says choppily, hoping that he’s not offending her by ushering her into the passenger seat.

She finds a card in her purse with the name of the hotel, where Ohkura drops her off and gives her a searing kiss in parting. The next thing he knows, he’s paid for parking and pushing her up against the elevator on the way to her room, where he lowers her to the bed and fucks her until she can’t take anymore.

In the morning she’s gone, the only trace of her that remains is the lingering smell of cigarette smoke from the night before.

Before he’s even fully awake, he’s scribbling lyrics onto the hotel stationary, having finally found the inspiration for his solo.


End file.
